The Serpent's Fangs
by Nevermore Burning
Summary: Imagine... what if Harry's impression of Draco Malfoy on their first meeting had been better. Would wizarding history have been changed forever? And if so, would it have been something like The Serpent's Fangs, an idea I have been playing with for a while
1. The First Signs of Change

The Serpent's Head- Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. The first part of this chapter is paraphrased from the first Harry Potter book. If some characters seem OOC, that's really the point. Please R&R.

_From the beginning of time there was a multiverse. Every event that could happen splits the world in twain. But in the long run, one universe is much like another. But certain small differences can change the events of human lives forever. One out of two universes, which up to then had run side by side, took a turn away from it's fellow. In our time this was in the year 1991 on July 31st, just before the start of the wizarding school year._

_The differences between these two universes began to be noticeable in a clothes shop by name of Madame Malkin's, in the wizarding street of Diagon Alley. It was into here that Harry Potter (who not 24 hours before had presumed himself a normal boy and had had no idea of his magical abilities) walked to buy his robes, before starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The scene, I believe, went something like this:_

Hagrid still looked a bit sick, so Harry entered Madame Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

Madame Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in sea green.

"I'd like my Hogwarts robes", Harry blurted out, as she began to speak.

"I've got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now." she replied, looking slightly miffed that Harry had interrupted her.

In the back of the shop, a boy with a slightly pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin, stood Harry in the same position and began to pin his robes to the right length.

"Hullo," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes, but- well, it's a bit weird for me." Harry trailed off.

"Oh? Your parents Muggles?" asked the boy, almost accusingly.

"Oh, no! But I didn't know them, you see. They were killed when I was a baby and-"

"Wait! Is your last name Potter?" the boy said, quickly.

"Yeah. I'm Harry Potter. So, what's your name?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. So, you're rejoining the wizarding world, eh?"

"I am. I can't believe it. Everyone seems to know my name."

"Well, it's interesting to meet you. I think I'm glad." said Draco, extending a hand. Harry took it, and then asked,

"So, what can you tell me about Hogwarts?"

"Oh, well: There's four houses. Hufflepuff. Load of idiots there. Ravenclaw. My father says they're too cocky for their own good. Gryffindor. A load of foolhardys and quite contemptible. And then Slytherin. My father's house. Superior to the rest, and full of people who are brave, clever, yet not so stupid as to go rushing in where prudence is needed. I hope to be in Slytherin too. And then there's Quidditch. It's a wizard game on brooms. First years aren't allowed to play, but I'm going to try and bring a broom anyway. I don't suppose you'll have much money?"

"Oh no, I've got loads. My parents left me it."

"Well then. You should buy one too. And then you're allowed familiars. My father's bought me an owl."

"He sounds generous, your father."

"He is. I'll tell him I met you."

"Cool." Just then, Harry saw Hagrid at the window. Now, his bumbling way of walking didn't look so endearing, somehow. "Looks like I've got to go. It's my babysitter. I think Dumbledore sent him for me."

"So you know about Dumbledore? My father thinks he's a really bad headteacher. He probably is if he sent that savage to fetch you."

"Yeah, you're right. Well, I'll see you at school."

"On the train! It's Platform 9 and ¾. Walk through the barrier, you'll see. Good to meet you, Harry."

Carrying his robes, Harry walked out, his head spinning with all the new things he had been told. He grabbed the ice-cream Hagrid proffered and strode on without speaking.


	2. Shopping Diagonally

The Serpent's Head- Chapter 2

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. I'm very pleased that my first three reviews were so positive; thanks, they really helped me to write this chapter. I'll check out the stories my reviewers have written as well. This chapter may seem to end abruptly, but that's because I wont be able to get to my computer for 3 days and so won't be able to update.**

_Those familiar with the story which in this world is told by one J. K. Rowling may have already noticed the difference between that story and this. These events shall become even more apparent in this, the next chapter of this tale. It continues where the last chapter left off: Harry Potter has just left the shop of Madame Malkin. He now heads to collect the remaining things he needs before attending Hogwarts. Is talk with the young Malfoy has given him definite ideas about the wizarding world. How shall this affect his outlook? We shall see..._

They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts, next door to Madame Malkin's. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books. Harry didn't bother looking at them closely. Without Hagrid seeing, into with the pile of his school books he slipped _Curses and Counter Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges : Hair Loss, Jelly Legs, Tongue Tying and much much more) _by Professor Vindictus Viridian. Harry wanted to try them out on Dudley, but he didn't think Hagrid would approve if he saw him buy it: so he put the whole pile on the counter and asked to buy the lot. Hagrid was meanwhile engrossed in a book with what looked like a strangely cute picture of a dragon on the front.

"Come on, let's go!", Harry said. "You can't read all day, Hagrid." Hagrid quickly put the book back on the shelf.

"I wonder... If he really is a savage, like Draco said, I'm surprised he can read." Harry thought. "I suppose he's probably just looking at the pictures."

"We're going t'get ye' Potions stuff now, Harry." Hagrid said, breaking into Harry's train of thought.

They went to get a set of scales and a cauldron first; Harry wanted to get a solid gold cauldron, but Hagrid wouldn't let him. ("It says pewter on yer list"). This was quite unfair in Harry's opinion, and he wondered why he had to do everything Hagrid said. However, when they reached the apothecary Harry decided that he would let Hagrid sort this one, as there was nothing really special he wanted.

Outside the apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again.

"Just yer wand left- oh, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

"You could get me a broom!" said Harry eagerly, thinking about what Draco had said; it'd be cool if they could both bring brooms. And how bad could they punish you anyway?

"Firs' years aren't allowed them, Harry; and they're a mite expensive. Tell yer what, I'll get you yer animal. Toads went out of fashion years ago, and cats make me sneeze. I'll get yeh an owl."

"Oh, okay," said Harry, still longing for a broom. He decided that if he was going to make friends with anyone at Hogwarts, it'd be someone who could afford things. If Hagrid was such a cheapskate he was only going to get him an owl...

20 minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage which held a handsome great horned owl. He quickly thanked Hagrid and asked where they were to go for a wand.

"Fer wands? Ollivander's! Only place for wands, Ollivander's! And yeh gotta have the best wand."

"That's more like it," Harry thought. They walked along the street until they reached the shop. It was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters above the door read _Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. _A single wand lay on a faded purple curtain in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair on which Harry quickly sat down, as soon as he saw it. The cage he was carrying was very heavy; he was glad Hagrid was carrying the rest of his stuff.

It felt like they had just entered a very strict library. Harry looked at the thousands of boxes piled high to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some very secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a very soft voice. Harry jumped. So did Hagrid, who knocked over one of the stacks, sending wands all over the floor.

"Sorry, Mr Ollivander. Didn' mean t'-"

"No matter, my dear Hagrid. No matter." An old man stood before them, his wide, pale eyes staring through the gloom like strange lanterns.

"Hello," said Harry, disturbed by the man's gaze.

"Harry Potter? Yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon. You have your father's eyes. It seems only yesterday he was in here buying his first wand. 11 inches long, pliable, made of mahogany. Excellent for transfiguration."

My Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink; those silvery eyes were very creepy.

"Your mother, on the other hand, favoured a willow wand. 10 ¼ inches. Swishy. A little less power but a nice wand for charm work. Well, I say your mother favoured it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr Ollivander had come so close that Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar with a long white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. 13 ½ inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful... and in the wrong hands... Well, if I'd known what wand was going out in world to do..."

"You wouldn't have sold it?"

"Oh, I think I would have, actually. I'd have been bound in my duty as a purveyor of wands. Wands shape destinies after all, and you can't deny destiny, Mr Potter. It comes for you whether you like it or not. "


	3. Green And Silver Sparks

The Serpent's Head- Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. Sorry this has taken so long: I have been very busy with end of term tests. Hopefully the next chapter will come very soon. Please R&R, and thank you all for doing so so far; even the non-positive reviews! Everything helps.**

_So, some interesting theories on destiny from Mr. Ollivander. In a way he's right; you can't escape destiny;. The way things happen are the way things can only be in that particular universe. But because no-one really knows what's going to happen in next, you might as well enjoy life to the full. Anyway, as I recall, Harry was just about to choose his wand. And his wand was about to choose him_

"Oh. Right. Well...Can I get on with getting my wand now?" Harry replied, almost afraid of Mr. Ollivander now.

"Certainly. Certainly. But please... be patient." Mr. Ollivander pulled a long tape measure with golden markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed, so I suppose-"

"Quite so. Hold it out then." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn tail hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are quite the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And so you get the best results with your own wand."

"Well... I see. So which one for me?", inquired Harry, still wondering where this man was getting to.

"The wand will choose you, Mr. Potter." "Mr. Ollivander was flitting about the shelves, taking down boxes. Finally, he stopped and went toward Harry. Out of the first box he took a silver, short wand. "Right then Mr. Potter. Try this. Beechwood and unicorn hair. 3 inches. Rigid."

Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit. To his disappointment, nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Try this. Ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches. Springy. Try-"

Harry waved the wand. Again nothing happened and Mr. Ollivander took it straight away.

"No, no, here; maple and phoenix feathers. 7 ½ inches. Whippy. Go on, go on. Try it out,"

Harry tried. And tried. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher.

"Tricky customer, eh? Don't worry, we'll find the perfect wand here somewhere- I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination. Cherry and unicorn hair, eleven inches, quite flexible.

Harry took the wand, and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down and released a cloud of green and silver sparks. They threw dancing spots of light on to the walls and ceiling.

"Oh bravo, Mr. Potter. Bravo. That will be seven Galleons, please." Harry quickly paid, anxious to get out of the shop. For just a moment back there, it had been as if something else were to happen; he had got a chill through his spine; but no. As they left, Mr. Ollivander bowed low. Harry saw a boy enter the shop as they left. The boy looked very nervous, perhaps (thought Harry), because of the formidable lady standing behind him with a stuffed vulture on her head.

Night had begun to fall as Hagrid and Harry made their way back Diagon Ally, back through the wall, and eventually back to the Underground. Harry was very conscious of all the people staring at him in the carriage, with his many lumpy and strange packages. He wished they had been able to use magic to get back.

"Hagrid? Why were you expelled? You didn't answer me earlier, in the hut on the rock."

"I don't want t' discuss it Harry. Stop being nosy, it's none o' your business. Sorry, but t'ere it is."

"Oh. Fine. Okay." As Harry lapsed in silence the tube train pulled into the station. They went up the escalators until they reached Paddington Station. Hagrid tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"It's getting late, you'll have to rush. Think t' train for Surrey leaves soon."

"I'll hurry up then. Oh, wait. Hagrid, how am I getting to Hogwarts?"

"Oh yeah, right." Hagrid pulled a ticket out of his coat pocket. "Yer ticket. King's Cross, September the First- it's all on yer ticket. Any problems, send a letter with yer owl, he'll know where to find me."

Just then the station announcer called Harry's train.

"Off you go then," said Hagrid, handing harry the last of his bags. "See you at Hogwarts, Harry!"

"Yeah. Bye." said Harry, quickly and then hurried away.

As the train pulled out of the station, harry reflected on his day. It had been an excellent birthday. He had made up his mind though- at Hogwarts, he was going to try not to talk to Hagrid, if he could help it. He did seem nice, but , from what Harry had learned from Draco, (who in some ways had been more helpful than Hagrid) nice wasn't going always going to cut it. He also pondered on one of the first things Draco had said. He had asked, in a negative tone, whether Harry had Muggle parents. Why was having Muggle parents bad? "There must be a reason", Harry thought. "But what?" He would have to ask Draco when he next saw him... Harry yawned, and began to slowly nod off to the noise of the train.


	4. To King's Cross!

The Serpent's Head- Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. Again, I'm very sorry that this has taken so long as it is the holidays and I keep running out of time in the day. Apologies! This is a short chapter because I rather put up something than nothing. Please keep R&Ring!  
**

_ Some strange differences between the universe, indeed. If the wand chooses the wizard, then this Harry is definitely a different wizard. It looks like this has definite contrast between "The..."Li-. Oh, but I forget you're not familiar with our naming system. In the department, the nickname for universes are varied. This universe has been designated: "The Serpent's Fangs". Compare this with the universe that you the reader are more familiar with: "The Lion's Mane". Of course, they have numerical designations as well, but #18372-b-23 tells you nothing at all. Anyway, enough of my gripes about the administration here. As I recall, Harry was almost back in Surrey... for the last month before he goes to Hogwarts. And then it's off to 9 ¾!_

Harry's last month with the Dursleys was the worst time he'd ever spent with them. True, Dudley was so scared of him he wouldn't stay in the same room, but apart from that, as far as they were concerned, he didn't exist.

Harry had wanted to try some of the spells in his curse book, but a little disclaimer in the front cover reminded under-age wizards that they were not to use the spells. He'd ignored it, and then found himself unable to open the book.

"Bloody useless thing, it worked in the shop!", he said to himself.

His only company was his owl. He'd decided to call him Herpo, after a name he'd found in _A History of Magic_. He found his school books quite interesting. He lay in his bed reading for as long as he could. He had especially enjoyed the book on Transfiguration. He knew that as soon as he could, he'd finish off what Hagrid had started and turn Dudley into a pig.

He was beginning to see why Muggle-born wizards might be despised. After all, Muggles themselves: the Dursleys were a prime example. They were horrible. Harry wondered if many at Hogwarts would share Draco's view; he suspected it might just be the Slytherin house or whatever it was called. Harry wondered how they were chosen for the houses. It hadn't occurred to him before.

On the last day of August, he reluctantly realised he'd have to speak to his aunt and uncle to get to King's Cross station the next day. He went into the front room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat, sending Dudley screaming from the room.

"Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted, to show he was listening.

"I need to get to King's Cross tomorrow, to get to Hogwarts? Can you give me a lift?"

Uncle Vernon grunted positively.

"Right. I need to be there at eleven o' clock."

Uncle Vernon grunted again, this time, Harry supposed, to tell him to go away.

"OK. Well... see you tomorrow." Harry left the room quickly. It looked as if the contestant had just reached the bonus round, on the quiz show, and Harry knew that any more interruptions might, however scared of him the Dursleys were, be quite painful.

Harry woke at 5 the next morning. He pulled on his jeans, thinking that he might as well change on the train: he doubted the Dursleys would take him dressed in robes. He checked his list again to make sure he had everything, saw that Herpo was safely locked in his cage, and then went downstairs to have breakfast. Two hours later, Harry's huge, heavy trunk was loaded into the car, Aunt Petunia had given Dudley a 20 pound note to sit next to Harry, and they were on their way.

They reached King's Cross at half ten. Harry was shoved out of the car along with his stuff, and then the car drove swiftly away, in the direction of Harley Street: apparently, Dudley was gong to have his tail removed.

Harry managed to pull all his stuff onto a trolley, and wheeled into the station. He quickly found Platform 9. He noticed that the barrier between 9 and 10 seemed to be slightly crowded: Harry remembered what Draco had told him. He wheeled the trolley down to the barrier, closed his eyes, and ran as fast as he could towards it. He half-expected a crash... but no.

He opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a A sign overhead said _Hogwarts Express, 11 o' clock_. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters _on it He had done it.


	5. In A Small Compartment

The Serpent's Fangs- Chapter 5

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. I'm quickly updating this time. However, I'm on a massive festival trip in the summer and so probably won't update much. I'll try and release as many chapters as I can before that time though. As always, please keep R&Ring!**

_And so Harry's entry into the real wizarding world begins. What will he make of it? Aficionados of The Lion's Mane universe: it's about now that the story goes completely off the metaphorical map! So throw away all your tomes about magical stones, and see what happens!_

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there around their legs. Owl's hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble, and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students. Harry pushed his trolley down the platform in search of an empty set (or possibly Draco's carriage, as Harry didn't much feel like making a journey with people he didn't know at all. On his way down the platform, Harry passed the boy he'd seen near Ollivander's. He was saying, to the formidable old women that he'd been with in Diagon Alley, that he'd lost his pet toad. Harry thought he looked a bit of an idiot; his face was round and flushed, and his clothes, though new, looked dirty and stained in laces. Harry veered the trolley to avoid the boy, and walked on.

Harry pressed on through the crowd until he came to an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Herpo inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up but he could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

"Want a hand?" Harry turned to see a flame-haired boy, about two years older than himself.

"Oh, well... fine. Thanks." Harry agreed, although not with reluctance: he'd promised himself he wouldn't make friend s with skinflints, and the boy (and his twin, who as also walking over to help) looked quite scruffy and a bit shabby. Still, it was good of them to help.

With the twin's help, Harry's trunk was at last safely tucked into his compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?", said one of the twins suddenly, pointing to Harry's scar.

"Blimey, said the other. "Are you-"

"Yeah, I'm Harry Potter. What of it?"

"But you... you're..."

"Frankly, I don't care. Thanks for getting me on the train, anyway..."

"The twins looked as if the wanted to interrogate Harry more, but a voice came through the open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With relief, Harry sat down, turned away from the window and got out one of his school booksThe train began to speed up and he'd just settled down for a good read when there came a knock upon the compartment door.

"Come in." said Harry. The door of the compartment slid open and a boy who looked a lot lie the twins walked in.

"Anyone sitting there?" the boy asked.

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. As Harry went back to his book, he saw that the boy kept glancing at him, then looking away.

"Hey Ron." The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train; Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there.

"Right," mumbled Ron.

One of the twins turned to Harry.

"Harry, we're Fred and George Weasley. This is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

Ron mumbled goodbye. Harry just sat reading his book; he didn't see any reason to stop for these people. After all, it was a good book.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

"Yeah, I am. But it's no big deal. And don't ask me to show you my scar."

"Oh. Okay. Fine." And Ron fell silent.

For a while they sat there in silence, Harry reading, Ron just aimlessly sitting there. At around half twelve there as a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled women slid back their door and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Harry, who was hungry after having only a small breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.

He had never had any money for sweets with the Dursleys and now that his pocket's were rattling with gold and silver he intended to buy as much as he could. The lady had many strange sweets and cakes. Not wanting to miss anything, Harry bought some of everything and paid the lady eleven Sickles and seven Knuts.

Ron started as Harry brought it all back into the compartment.

"Hungry, are you?" he asked.

"Well, a bit. It's just in case."

Ron took out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulled one of them apart and groaned, "She always forgets I hate corned beef."

"You should have bought something from the trolley," said Harry.

"Well, I... nah. I... didn't want any."

"Oh, right." Harry strongly suspected there were other reasons Ron didn't buy anything, mostly involving a distinct a lack of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. But he didn't say anything. He wondered where Draco was on the rain, and made up his mind to ditch Ron as soon as possible and go look for him. How rewarding could a friendship with Ron be anyway?

They lapsed into silence gain, Harry eating slowly and Ron just sitting there. At one point Harry noticed that with some of the sweets, the little chocolate frogs, you seemed to get cards. The pictures on them, which purported to be of Famous Witches and Wizards, seemed to move and as Harry watch one wizard walked out of the picture altogether. He watched this in silent amazement.

For a bit, Harry went to sleep. He thought he heard people come and go from the compartment a few times, but when he opened his eyes Ron was still there, sitting dully in the corner. Suddenly, the compartment door opened again, quite loudly this time.

Three boys entered and Harry recognised the middle one at once.

"Draco!"

"Hello, Harry. People are saying all down the train that you're in this compartment, so I thought I'd come and find you. Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle. Bit stupid, but their father's are friends with mine and their good to have around."

"I'm sorry, you are?" asked Ron.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which may have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him.

"Think my name's funny do you? No need to ask who you are. My father says all the Weasleys have read hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Harry. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

He held out is hand to shake Harry's. Harry took it.

"Thanks, Draco. Yeah, you're right. Now, can you give me a hand with this case?"

Draco snapped his fingers. Crabbe and Goyle both moved to pick up Harry's stuff. Then, all four of them walked out of the room, leaving Ron shocked, hurt and perhaps wondering if he couldn't have done me to get Harry to stay.


	6. A Slytherin View

The Serpent's Fangs- Chapter 6

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. This chapter may not be as good, because I'm not working with a clear structure any more. Please R&R constructively just the same, though.**

_Nothing much to say about this portion of the tale. Just read it and contemplate that all these differences started with a slight alteration in a conversation. Curious, isn't it?_

As they left the compartment Harry sighed with relief. He hadn't really got on that well with Ron, and he was glad to get out of there. For a moment he walked in silence alongside Draco, with Crabbe and Goyle bringing up the rear with Harry's suitcase. Then he remembered what he'd been wanting to ask.

"Hey, Draco."

"Yes, Harry?"

"You know when we met in Madame Malkin's? You said something about Muggle-born wizards... why are they so bad? I mean, the Muggles I live with are pretty repellent, but..."

"Ha. It's not your fault you're so naïve, Harry. No, Muggle-born wizards are just scum. Plain scum. I mean, they've only got magical powers because of chance. They don't even deserve to be called wizards. You should call them Mudbloods. Because that's all their blood is. I mean, if one marries a pure-blood then I suppose their child is less soiled. But Mudbloods, well, they're just plain wrong."

"You feel quite strongly about it then?" asked Harry, quickly getting a word in.

"Yes! I mean, if you ask me, someone should just get rid of them all, in one go. It'd solve all the problems in the wizarding world."

"Only..." Harry was worried. "I think... my mum may have been one. A Mudblood. But well... she did die. So I suppose she was weak, though i hate to say it. But what does that make me?"

"Oh. Well, I think you're an exception, you seem okay. I mean, you had the power to get rid of the Dark Lord. I mean, you could have chosen a better target, but..."

"A better target? Why?" inquired Harry.

"Well, cause he wanted to get rid of all the Mudbloods. I don't know why he decided to go after you."

"Hmm. I have a dilemma then, don't I?" said Harry.

"Why," asked Draco.

"Because... I think I agree with what Voldemort was trying to do. I mean, I like being a wizard and I don't like the idea of someone who has less right to it than be being one as well. Plus i don't much like Muggles. But on the other hand, he killed my parents, you know? I couldn't forgive someone for that."

"Well, you might not have too. I mean , he's gone now, but those who agreed with him aren't. Like my dad. You'll have to meet him sometime..."

"Yeah, that'd be good. By the way, where's your compartment?"

"Just here." said Draco, stopping. Behind him Crabbe and Goyle dropped the suitcase and sat down, panting. While Harry waited for Draco to open the door (there was a lock on Draco's compartment: further proof that Harry had made the right choice!) Harry turned to speak to the pair on the floor of the train.

"So, are Crabbe and Goyle your real first names."

"Uh... no. No. But people call us them. They're our second names." said the one called Crabbe.

"So what are your first names?" asked Harry.

"Uh... I'm Vince. And that's Greg. He's a bit dumb. But no-one ever calls us those names. Just call us Crabbe and Goyle."

"So how do your father's know Draco's?"

"You-Know-Who. They were all..." Goyle spoke. Crabbe dug him in the ribs.

"Shush. Err... they're just friends." said Crabbe quickly. "Idiot," he said to Goyle, in what Harry thought was meant to be a whisper. "They were forced to, _remember_?"

"They were? They were! Oh yeah."

"So how long were they helping Voldemort?" asked Harry. Crabbe looked panicky.

"Listen, mate. Draco seems to have vouched for you, but you're still harry Potter. And don't go spreading what we just discussed around, eh?"

"Oh, fine," said Harry, laughing inside at the two idiots.

Draco stuck his head round the door of the compartment.

"Are you three coming or what?" he shouted.

Once they were all inside, Harry put his remaining food on the table. There was still quite a lot. Crabbe and Goyle looked at it longingly.

"Didn't you buy any?" asked Harry.

"Yeah... we did. It went quite quickly." replied Crabbe.

"Oh. Well, help yourself too that,I'm not hungry any more." offered Harry. The two descended on the food.

"Didn't share any with Weasley, Harry?" asked Draco.

"No. I don't know why he sat in the carriage with me. How poor did you say he was?"

"Put it this way. His mum doesn't work, they've got seven children, five of which live there and a dad who works in a small department in the Ministry of Magic. Their house is like a collapsing toadstool."

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

"Oh, my dad's often in and around the Ministry. I think he's seen the house once."

"Does your dad work there?"

"Oh no, he's just very influential."

"But surely... if he used to work for Volde-"

"Well, let's just say that the clink of coins can make some people very forgetful, and leave it at that, shall we?" said Draco, smiling.

"Ah. I see what you mean. Cool. Oh, by the way, how do we know what house we're put in? Because I think I'd like to go in Slytherin, it sounds the best, but..."

"You don't know if you'd get in? Well, I think there's some kind of judge, I'm not sure. Normally, my father tells me everything. But he wouldn't tell me, he said he wanted it to be a surprise."

"Oh, I see. I'll just have be in suspense. Hey, is the train slowing down?"

"You know, I think you're right. We're here at last."

"Oh no..." groaned Harry.

"What?"

"It's him. Hagrid. I thought I wouldn't see him again. What do you suppose he's here for?"

"If I had to guess," replied Draco, "I'd say we've got to follow that savage up to the castle."

"We're dead," said Harry flatly. "He's going to get us lost."

"You may have a point. But what choice do we have? I personally do not want to get expelled quite this quickly."

"Sadly, you're right. Let's go." The four headed out of the compartment: Crabbe and Goyle at the back, carrying all the luggage, shoulders buckling under the weight.


	7. To The Oak Door

The Serpent's Fangs- Chapter 6

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. This chapter may not be as good, because I'm not working with a clear structure any more. Please R&R constructively just the same, though. I apologies profusely for no updates in a long, long while. I have been on my summer holidays.**

_You may have been wondering where this tale went these past few weeks. My superiors here at the department don't allow contact between employees and the outside world. I have been severely reprimanded. But, I managed to plead my case and am here again telling you my tale. Onward, then!_

The four of them pushed their way towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Hagrid's voice sounded over the heads of the students:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

"I was until you showed up." Harry muttered under his breath, as Hagrid again shouted for the first years to follow him.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. As they began the journey, Harry noticed that the rest of the students seemed to be going another way, toward some carriages near the platform: taking a more direct route than them by the look of it, as the path they were on seemed to twist and turn for ages. He voiced his concern to Malfoy, who replied:

"My father said it's always like that. First years have to wade knee deep in mud before even getting close to the school! I mean, it's ridiculous. I reckon it's to scare the new students so they'll listen to anyone who can get them out of it: like Albus Dumbledore."

"What's he like?"

"A Muggle-loving fool, according to my father. He'll let anyone in. Earlier, on the train, this girl came into our compartment: that's here over there, with the brown bushy hair. She's a Mudblood. You can tell, you know. Once you get used to it. Something about the way they hold themselves, or maybe it's just a look in their eyes. I don't know. But... you can always tell."

"What was she in the compartment for?"

"Looking for his- " (Draco jabbed a finger at a round-faced boy: Harry recognised him from the station, and fro Diagon Alley) "-toad. He's Neville Longbottom. Pure-blood, though you'd never know it. My father said something happened to his parents, eleven years ago. After the Dark Lord fell. They're in St. Mungo's now: the wizard public hospital. My family would never dram,of getting treated there, of course- too much riff-raff- but it's fine for some people."

"What's wrong with them?"

"My father wouldn't say. Said it was too terrible- and some of the stories my father's told me, that's a pretty tall order!" Draco grinned, darkly. "Hang on, we're stopping."

Hagrid, leading at the front, shouted out: "Yeh'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!",especially from Crabbe and Goyle, who sounded for all the world like two 8 year old schoolgirls. Draco smacked them round the head.

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a giant black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

"He has to be joking." said Draco to Harry."I am NOT going in those. They look... slightly unstable."

"I know. Remember, like you said, just trying to make us scared," replied Harry.

Behind them, Crabbe and Goyle were talking. "Dad's got a boat. We go rowing sometimes." said Goyle. "So I can row if we need-"

"Goyle. Magic, remember. God, you're thick," reprimanded Crabbe.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yeah."

"Fair enough."

As the four of them got into the boat, Harry saw Ron get into the next boat along with the Mudblood Malfoy had pointed out, and Neville. For a split second, Harry thought he saw himself getting into the boat with them. He blinked, and the vision of himself disappeared.

"Everyone in?", shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!", yelled hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff;thye all bent tehir heads and the little boats carrie dtehm through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seeme dto be taking them right under the castle, until thye reached a kind of underground harbour, whre they clambered out on to rocks and pebbles. As they got out, harry heard Neville finding his toad in the next boat.

"Bet you a galleon he loses it again in the next hour." Harry said to the other three.

They looked at each other.

"I'm in" confirmed Crabbe. Goyle also nodded.

"I'm not. I agree, he will. In fact, I bet he'll lose it in the next half hour."

"Fair enough." agreed Harry. "Let's go."

They began again to follow hagrid, up a passageway in the rock, higher and higher, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. It swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch win emerald-green robes stood there. She had a vary stern face, and Harry's first though was they this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide


	8. The Sorting Begins

The Serpent's Fangs- Chapter 8

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. This chapter may not be as good, because I'm not working with a clear structure any more. Please R&R constructively just the same, though. Thank you! And sorry this took so long. This section of the book is all description, and it's hard to get through.**

_So. Hogwarts. Here it is, in all of its glory. This is where The Serpent's Fangs really begins to diverge from The Lion's Mane. And to those who have held their breath for a long time for this instalment, and as a result are dead- I'm sorry. Administrative problems, what?!_

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face, and Harry's first though was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys' house into it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led them to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a door to the right, and realised the rest of the school must already be here. Then, Professor McGonagall showed them into a small chamber of the main hall. Everyone crowded into the fairly small space. Harry whispered to Draco, "So, who is this teacher? What does she do"

"She's a Transfiguration teacher. Deputy Head of the school, and Head of Gryffindor."

"The houses have Heads? Who's the Head of Slytherin?"

"A guy called Snape. He used to be a Death Eater... but at the end Dumbledore vouched for him and said he'd been a spy for their side. Heh, like a real Slytherin would ever obey Dumbledore. No, he was double-crossing Dumbledore in favour of Voldemort. I don't know where his loyalties lie now, though. He could be pretending to be respectable, like my dad, or he could genuinely be trying to make amends. I don't think it likely though."

"I see. Oh, wait, we'd better be quiet." Harry suddenly realised that McGonagall was talking. She didn't seem to have noticed Harry, yet, but he thought he'd better shut up just the same. He listened to the end of what had evidently been a fairly boring talk: Other students were beginning to get distracted too.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten your selves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on the boy called Neville's cloak, and on the smudged nose of Ron, that his mother had tried unsuccessfully to wipe off. Harry thought however that he was already smart enough, and so he didn't bother trying.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry relaxed. Her stern visage was fairly unnerving.

"How exactly do they sort us?" he asked Malfoy.

"Oh, it's some kind of enchantment or something. It finds out where you are best suited for."

"So, you'll be in Slytherin?"

"I hope so. My father said, you just need to know where you want to go and it'll sort you there."

"I should be in Slytherin as well then."

"Maybe. But..."

"What, just because I took out Voldemort, it won't put me there?"

"Hey, I'm just guessing."

"Fair enough." Harry stood for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then something happened which made him gasp in astonishment. Several others screamed.

About twenty pale see-through people had just walked through the wall.

"Are they…?"

"Yeah. They're the Hogwarts ghosts. The schools been here for a thousand years, you know. Quite a few people have died here."

The ghosts seemed not to notice the first years – they seemed to be arguing about something – and so everyone watched as the glided round the room, passing through into the room into which McGonagall had gone...

"Move along now!" she barked. Harry jumped, as he had not noticed her return.

The first years began to move through the nearby door, into the Great Hall. Harry apprehensively walked through.

His first thought was that he could only have imagined in his wildest dreams a place of such grandeur. It was lit by thousands of candles, and, as Harry looked up, he saw that there seemed to be no ceiling. He guessed there was some kind of enchantment- he heard the Mudblood girl confirm his theory by whispering that she'd read it in a book. It angered him slightly that a Mudblood should know such things already- she could have only been in the Magical world a matter of months, and she already probably knew more than him- but he let it pass. He had more important things to worry about.

McGonagall had put down a stool in front of the first-years, and on top of it she placed a battered hat. Harry looked inquiringly at Draco, who just shrugged. Then, the hat twitched. A rip near the hat opened, and it began to sing.

It was the most awful song Harry had ever heard. The hat couldn't sing, it seemed to warble out the notes to a song which it had obviously spent a lot of time trying to learn, which was a shame, because it was a bloody awful song. Harry stood, and gritted his teeth.

After it was over, Harry sighed with relief. The general gist of it seemed to be that you put the hat on and then it told you where to go, or something.

McGonagall walked forward, holding a piece of parchment. She began to read out names, in what sounded like alphabetical order. As the first few students were sorted, Harry noticed that Goyle was looking worried, and pointed this out to Malfoy. They both turned to talk to him.

"What're you worried about, Goyle? You're going to be in Slytherin."

"It's not that."

"Then what on earth is the matter?"

"I'm shy."

"Oh for f-"

Just then, Goyle's name was called, and he tottered to the front. Harry shook his head in amazement.

"And you want to call him a friend?"

"Well…" but just as he was about to answer, Malfoy was called up. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed "SLYTHERIN!" He sat down with Crabbe and Goyle, a smirk on his face. Harry waited, alone. Eventually, his own name was called:

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers broke out all over the hall. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was a hall of people craning to take a look at him.


	9. SORTED!

The Serpent's Fangs- Chapter 9

**A/N: I don't own any of these characters, nor the concepts in involved in this story. Parts of this chapter may paraphrase Harry Potter 1. I accept these parts of the story as being the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. This chapter may not be as good, because I'm not working with a clear structure any more. Please R&R constructively just the same, though. Thank you! Sorry. Sorry. Sorry that this took so long and sorry about the slight use of cuss words, but these are basically secondary school kids. I'm not having them say "Drat!", and "Bother!"**

_Quickly! Quickly! What will happen next?_

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was a hall of people craning to take a look at him.

Next second Harry was looking at the inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmmm…" said a small voice in his ear. Difficult, very difficult. Courage, plenty of it. A good mind, too. There's talent, oh yes, a thirst to prove yourself… but where shall I put you?"

"Slytherin," thought Harry. "I don't want to go anywhere else."

"Oh? You'd do well in Slytherin; it is true, yes… Well, if you're sure, then it's SLYTHERIN!"

Harry heard the hat shout this word out to the whole hall. He took off the hat, and walked, slowly but proudly to the Slytherin table. He was conscious however, that he was getting the quietest cheer of all- even his new Slytherin housemates were only half-heartedly cheering. He sat down next to Draco, Vincent and Gregory.

"You'd think they might be polite enough to give me a cheer," he said to Draco, indicating the rest of the school.

"Harry- you're the boy who lived. No-one expected you to get into Slytherin, least of all the Slytherin ourselves."

"Well, I did. So what are they going to do about it?"

"The Slytherins will probably be okay. I've spent enough time with you to know that you'll probably fit right in… it's the rest of the school you'll have to worry about. Talking of which, look over at the High Table; Dumbledore keeps giving you dirty looks."

"What? That's… I mean, he hardly knows me."

"My dad says that when the Dark Lord was in power, Dumbledore led a resistance against him- which your parents were members of."

"So he expects me to be like my parents?"

"Exactly!"

"Fuck that. I don't have to be, and frankly I don't want to be. Sounds like they were just a pair of Muggle-loving fools. I do not intend to be like them."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin. Well done."

Just then Dumbledore began to speak. Harry didn't bother listening- it didn't go on for very long anyway, and he had better things to think about. Straight after that, food appeared on the plates in front of him. Harry began to eat. He found himself very hungry, and wolfed it down- not as fast as Crabbe and Goyle, however, who seemed to be eating at an almost superhuman rate. Soon, Harry was full, and he sat back from the table.

To his right, Draco finished his own meal. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting, satisfied. Starting to feel warm and sleepy, he glanced over at the high table and saw Professor Quirrel, who he remembered from Diagon Alley talking to another man, who had sanguine skin and what could only be described as a beak for a nose. As Harry glanced at the turbaned-teacher, he felt a sharp pain in his scar.

"Ow!"

"What?" asked Draco, lazily.

"Nothing. Hey, who's that with the… nose?"

"That's Snape. Our Head of House, remember? I really wouldn't say things like that. My dad remembers him from school. A bit loose with the old wand when riled, apparently; and that's coming from my dad."

"Gotcha. Do you know anything about Quirrel? The other guy?"

"Oh, him. No idea. There's something about him though. Reminds me of someone I saw in a photo once. Can't remember who. Why the questions?"

"No reason."

As Harry said this, Dumbledore got to his feet, again. Harry phased out while he was talking- something about corridors. Then two words caught his attention.

"School… song?"

Dumbledore had made words appear in the end, which apparently they were meant to sing. Harry sang as quickly and as quietly as he could, gritting his teeth as the song belted on. Finally it stopped.

"Fucking Durmstrang," whispered Draco. "I'm getting a transfer to fucking Durmstrang as soon as I can."

"Durm-?"

"Another wizarding school. Better than this dump. I wanted to go there… but… I couldn't."

"Why?"

"That doesn't matter. Come on, I think we're leaving."

The students began to filter out of the hall, led by the Slytherin prefect. They went down some stairs, and down, and down. Finally, they reached a dead end.

"_Gerundelus Totanticus_" shouted the prefect, and the walls around them disappeared, as did the dead end. It seemed to pass though the students, slotting into place into what had been the entrance to the passage, and was now the exit to a lavishly furnished room, with a green fire burning in the grate. It gave the room an emerald tinge.

Harry located his room quickly. Getting quickly changed, he put his head on his pillow.

He had a strange but not altogether bad dream. Quirrel's turban was talking to him, telling him secrets of indeterminate value. He was stalking the streets of Little Whiniging, and found Privet Drive. Laughing, he entered the Dursley's house, raised his wand- and then his laughter went high-pitched and cold, and there were flashes of green light. There was someone else by his side during all of this- but when he turned his head he could see nothing.

When he woke from it the next morning, he found he could remember it lucidly, as if it was etched in his memory. He remembered also that the dream had given him a strangely warm feeling inside, the full nature of which he had forgotten. But the memory of the dream stayed on.


End file.
